HoV: Vulpecular
Title: Vulpecular
Word count: 197
Series: HoV
ljs100 challenge: #048-Asia
Notes: Characters and world belong to LJS.
This was not the Japan Morgana's Californian neighbours envisioned. There were no giggling schoolgirls or sharp-dressed young men in sight, no robots or vending machines that dispensed underwear. This was a magical market, far off the tourist trail, and it resembled every such bazaar Morgana had ever frequented, from Chile to the Czech Republic.
Taking the Vixen was, in hindsight, not the wisest move, but motherhood had been draining her and she needed a break. Her weight, draped across Morgana's shoulders like a shawl, was barely noticeable to the sorceress, but the fox was attracting more than her fair share of attention.
"Was she recently pregnant?" a dark-haired witch asked Morgana, wisely keeping her distance. "How much are you selling the kits for?"
The Vixen reared up, her claws digging into Morgana's shoulders. "Not for sale," the sorceress said sharply, walking away quickly so she could calm her companion down. "Settle, settle. I'm almost at the mirror merchant."
"Yes, well. If one more person calls me a kitsune and asks how many tails I have," the Vixen groused, easing back down onto Morgana's shoulders, "they'll only have ten fingers if they count the ones in their reflection."
Word count: 197
Series: HoV
ljs100 challenge: #048-Asia
Notes: Characters and world belong to LJS.
This was not the Japan Morgana's Californian neighbours envisioned. There were no giggling schoolgirls or sharp-dressed young men in sight, no robots or vending machines that dispensed underwear. This was a magical market, far off the tourist trail, and it resembled every such bazaar Morgana had ever frequented, from Chile to the Czech Republic.
Taking the Vixen was, in hindsight, not the wisest move, but motherhood had been draining her and she needed a break. Her weight, draped across Morgana's shoulders like a shawl, was barely noticeable to the sorceress, but the fox was attracting more than her fair share of attention.
"Was she recently pregnant?" a dark-haired witch asked Morgana, wisely keeping her distance. "How much are you selling the kits for?"
The Vixen reared up, her claws digging into Morgana's shoulders. "Not for sale," the sorceress said sharply, walking away quickly so she could calm her companion down. "Settle, settle. I'm almost at the mirror merchant."
"Yes, well. If one more person calls me a kitsune and asks how many tails I have," the Vixen groused, easing back down onto Morgana's shoulders, "they'll only have ten fingers if they count the ones in their reflection."